


Is a papercut the worst you can expect?

by Codango



Series: Sitting in the street [5]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Exes, Firefighters, Flirting, M/M, Police, Reunions, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto defaulted to his time-tested reaction: smile and pretend everything was normal. This was not the high schooler he’d gone on a few dates with. This was not the college student who’d broken his heart. This was a police officer. Whom he happened to know. "Yeah. Didn't know you were at this station too."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is a papercut the worst you can expect?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of SouMako week! Alternate Universe prompt :)

The person behind the glass at the front desk hadn’t turned around yet, not even when Makoto coughed politely.

“Er. Is Matsuoka Rin available?” he finally asked, as loud as he dared. “Please?” he added.

“No.” The voice was low and very short-tempered. “No, because if he were, he’d be doing this goddamn paperwork himself.” The dark-haired police officer finally turned around in his wheeled desk chair. “What the hell do you need?”

Makoto’s mouth fell open. After five years, that blue-green glower could still shatter him.

“S-SOUSUKE?!”

The glower widened into a full-blown stare. Yamazaki Sousuke, five years removed from their high school graduation, shot up from his chair like something had bit his ass. “Makoto! Eh, Tachibana… san.” The young police officer visibly tried to pull himself together. “It’s been… a while.”

Makoto defaulted to his time-tested reaction: smile and pretend everything was normal. This was not the high schooler he’d gone on a few dates with. This was not the college student who’d broken his heart. This was a police officer. Whom he happened to know. “Yeah,” he agreed, throwing in a trademark laugh for good measure. “Didn’t know you were at this station too — I have something for Rin.” And he held up a small white package. Let it be known he was not here to reminisce, dear god.

“Ah, Haru sent lunch from the café again.” Sousuke probably _tried_ not to let relief creep into his voice at the harmless subject matter, but Makoto still resented him for it. “Sure, I’ll put it on his desk.”

The box wouldn’t fit through the desk’s window, so Makoto set it on the counter. “I’ll leave this here then. Have a good one.” And he turned on his heel. _Just get outside. Just get outside and then you can react to your heart’s content. Whatever that means, but get outside first._

“M— Tachibana!” The tiny door to the glass-encased desk squeaked as it opened.

Makoto stopped, steeled his nerve, and turned. His stupid heart gave an involuntary jump. _We are over this guy, remember?_ But… damn, Sousuke in uniform was just… fucking unfair.

Sousuke halted a few feet away. “Ehhh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, stared at Makoto with a frown.

 _I mean, really._ Makoto forced himself not to look the taller man up and down. The navy-blue pants weren’t tight, but they certainly were trim. _He_ was trim, and — was it possible for him to be even bigger than he was in college? How much muscle could that body sustain anyway? _FUCKING unfair._

“You, uh, you stop by Haru’s café often?”

Small talk. He could do this. “I just transferred to a station a few blocks from it,” Makoto replied. “Haru’s been kind enough to give me a free coffee after my shifts. I figured the least I could do was drop off Rin’s lunch.”

“I see. Well, that’s… kind of you.” Sousuke shoved his hands in his back pockets, and Makoto refused to check to see how the fabric stretched across his hips. _Refused._ “So… what do you mean, station?”

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “The police don’t have a lock on stations, Yamazaki-san. I’m at Fire Station 13. And I’m coming off of 24 hours on, so I’ll be going.”

“Oh. Right.” Sousuke ran a hand over his jaw, looking at him thoughtfully. “Look, wait there for a sec. Don’t move.”

Makoto watched, bewildered, as Sousuke ducked back behind the front desk. _This better be good,_ Makoto grumbled to himself. Sousuke was rummaging through a drawer. _I am… either going to start screaming at him in the next five minutes, or I’m going to kiss him, and I’d fucking rather not do either please._

Sousuke walked back to him, a white handkerchief in hand. Makoto didn’t have time to react — or, at least, didn’t have the brainpower to react — before Sousuke put a hand behind his neck and began carefully wiping the bridge of his nose.

“Fire Station 13, huh?” Sousuke flourished the handkerchief. A dark smudge soiled it, and Makoto slapped a hand over his face. “That explains that, then.”

“I —! There was a grease fire at a restaurant… and…” Makoto grimaced, remembering how he’d collapsed on a cot immediately after getting back to the station. And he never bothered to shower when he woke up after a shift, preferring his apartment. _Dammit, why didn’t Haru_ say _something?_

“What’d you do, stick your nose in it?” Sousuke crossed his arms, not bothering to hide a smirk. “It’s all over the rest of your face, by the way.”

 _That’s IT._ “Well, not all of us get to sit behind cozy glass windows for a day job. Let me know when you get shot or something, all right?” Makoto turned on his heel. “Or is a papercut the worst you can expect?”

 

* * *

 

_ Is a papercut. The worst. You can. Expect?! _

Makoto closed his eyes and let the shower hit him full in the face. “Childish. Stupid. What are you, five?” He reached for the shampoo. “You know what he’s like. And you let him get to you. Just… just check your goddamn face before you leave work, will you?!” He lathered his hair viciously. “It’s not like it’s hard.”

“This isn’t a contest,” he lectured himself as he toweled off. “You’re both in honorable professions. You’ve had to do your share of paperwork.”

“You really should apologize,” he told his reflection as he brushed his teeth. “That was uncalled for.”

“Apologize?!” He yanked a hoodie over his wet hair. “To that asshole? _What’d you do, stick your nose in it?_ Yes, Sousuke, that’s standard procedure in Tokyo, didn’t you know?”

Makoto was still grumbling to himself when he shut his room-darkening curtains and sat on his bed. Normally he’d fall right asleep after his 24 hours on, but dammitall if seeing fucking Yamazaki goddamn Sousuke for the first time in _five fucking years_ hadn’t riled him up. A bit.

“Nuurrgghh.” He reached for his phone. A few stupid games would put him right to sleep. That’s all he needed, a distraction.

_A text?_

_[24 hours is a rough shift. When you wake up, how ‘bout I buy your next coffee at Haru’s?]_

Makoto didn’t have a name keyed in for this number, but… he had an awful suspicion he used to.

_[P.S. No papercut yet. Also, not shot. Sorry.]_

_GodDAMN it._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I... might be getting Makoto a little OOC here. But *surely* the boy will grow into more of a backbone as he ages, right?
> 
> [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr
> 
> [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego


End file.
